Harmony
by XAN-000
Summary: That piece may have seemed small, but it was as vital to her as any other. And when she played music, there was no danger of it slipping away. It sustained her life, evoking that much-desired feeling of wholeness, and so reality became a little less bleak.


The library's massive door groaned and stuttered as it slowly closed behind Lily, a puff of cold air blowing out into the hallway and chilling her legs before it's own weight finally brought it to rest in it's frame. A student wearing massive headphones preoccupied with his phone was the only other sign of life in the otherwise empty corridor. How long had she been in there? Too long, if the clock hanging from the wall was right. Half past four. Everyone else was probably already home by now, she figured, hanging out and having fun and making the most of their lives.

Sounded nice.

Hefting her bag to her shoulder and starting left for the nearest perimeter stairwell, Lily stopped midstep, a thought occurring to her. Doubling back, she fought to suppress a smile. Her pace picked up as she rounded the corner. Hair bouncing and skirt swishing, her heart jumped with a mixture of excitement and anxiety as every footstep echoed through the void, skipped when she came to a stop outside the large set of double doors at the top of the main stairwell that looked as old as the school itself.

The music room.

Passing it countless times over the past week, she'd tried to sneak a peek to sate her curiosity, but without fail, there was always a crowd of students blocking her view. Now, the doors were wide open and nary another soul was around. She scanned the massive room from the doorway, her eyes passing over the old, wooden risers, the metal music stands lined against the far wall, the oversized instruments too big to take home...

It was almost heavenly, what with the warm, orange glow of the late afternoon sun cast over it all. A cool breeze wafted through the open windows, almost beckoning for her to enter and take a seat. Just seeing it was enough, though, and with her curiosity sated, she knew she needed to turn and leave. After all, Mom was probably getting worried. No, _definitely_. They both knew the walk home didn't take forty-five minutes.

Yeah.

...But the sight of the old box piano was too tempting.

…

Lily could feel herself getting giddy. Looking around, she readjusted her grip on her bag and stepped inside. "Hello?"

No answer.

Lily made a straight line for the piano, the clicking of her shoes against the hardwood floor loud. Her index finger, seemingly of it's own free will, immediately fell to one of the keys that managed to maintain it's faux-ivory façade. A _C_ , she recognized. It reverberated through her body, a sound so sweet she had missed all too much. Two more fingers completed the chord, and she held it until it became nothing.

Pacing, she traced the rest, occasionally playing one – _E_ , _A_ , _C_ , _F_ , each as lovely as ever. Around the side and to the back, along the rough faces and broken corners, making sure to avoid potential splinters. It was bittersweet, honestly: though desperately in need of restoration, it's condition was the result of not neglect, but constant use, and that's what made it all the more beautiful.

Returning to the front, she hit the first _C_ again and it rang out, carrying through the room, and she imagined down the hallway, under every door, into every corner of the school, holding on until it's short life finally came to an end, it's demise allowing silence to rush in and replace it.

Lily swallowed. Looked to her left, right, behind her. Still, no one. It became too much, and she failed to suppress an excited squeak. Leaning her bag against the side, she tucked her skirt and sat, the leather of the bench creaking under her paltry weight. No one would mind.

Right?

Again, she played the first chord, followed by another. Her hands moved in a combination of instinct and thought, but it wasn't long before a finger slipped, hitting a sour note. Her chest tightened and she drew away, as though the keyboard had burnt her. What was so exciting moments before had become intimidating. The last time she played was only a few months ago, so why, all of a sudden, did it feel like years had passed? Could she really be _that_ out of practice?

"No." She exhaled, brushing her hair out of her face. Heart pounding in her ears, one hand returned. Rushing wasn't the way to go. She just needed to take a little time to regain her footing, is all.

The first chord. Carefully moving up and down the line, playing the right notes shortly after thinking them, the uncertainty began to melt away. "Slow and steady." Her other hand soon joined, and she guided herself through a simple song she knew by heart in every way except what it was called and from where she heard it.

And, by the sound of that familiar melody alone, a switch seemed to flip.

Her posture straightened, the movements of her hands and foot deft as it all started to flood back. Sweat ran down her face, the music surrounding her in a whirlwind, rendering the transition between songs hardly noticeable. Her heart pounded, adrenaline and joy fueling her, instinct becoming her guide through this long-awaited reunion with an old friend she had fallen out of touch with.

One she had missed _so_ much, she realized, a choked laugh escaping her throat.

…

Faster, her fingers a blur. With the start of the fifth song, still a title she couldn't place, Lily, knowing that no longer was she in control, closed her eyes, warmth filling her as she finally surrendered to the moment.

…

How many songs now? Ten? A hundred? A thousand? She didn't know. She didn't care, because it didn't matter. The world and it's deafening cacophony became a million miles away, concepts like time fading into the void along with all of her thoughts and memories and problems and worries and concerns and pain and fears, leaving behind the now, the music, and her.

This moment, and all others like it before, was where she felt truly alive and at peace.

Performing one last flourish, Lily finally became still. The notes slowly faded, the encroaching silence, signaling the end of her impromptu performance, held off by the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above, the insects chirping outside, and her own heavy breathing. Her shoulders, wrists, and ankle ached, but it was a small price to pay to feel that life again.

"Impressive."

Lily shot to her feet and spun, flinching as the bench hit the floor with a loud clap. Leaning in the doorway, arms crossed with a steaming mug in one hand, was an older woman who looked to be somewhere in her sixties, her style of dress looking to be _from_ the '60s. "What are you doing in here?" she asked in a raspy voice, her tone tight.

In a panic, her heart practically in her throat, Lily just reacted... by going for her bag.

"Uh-uh. Leave it." The woman motioned to the bench with her head. "Pick _that_ up."

In seconds, Lily had it upright.

Again as she entered the room, pulling up a chair. She sat, crossing her legs with a sigh. "Sit."

Lily complied, the leather creaking. The light of the sun, tempting before, now served as a spotlight to single her out, shame her, like a defendant on the stand: guilty, caught in the act, with no presumptions of innocence. Lily hung her head and wrung her hands, fighting to maintain her composure as the atmosphere fast became thick and dizzying and terrifying, chastising herself for not leaving when she knew she should have.

A gust of wind blew from outside, rattling the windows, the ends of the drawstrings hanging from the shades tapping against the glass. Lily shivered, the warmth that had flowed through her moments ago now nothing but a distant memory; by way of the lingering sweat did her hair cling to her face, her blouse uncomfortable against her torso. Being at the woman's mercy as she blocked the door, watching from behind the round, purple-tinted lenses of her glasses, Lily felt exposed, vulnerable. Naked, almost.

Swirling her mug, the myriad bracelets and beads and charms the woman wore clattered against one another, drowning out the buzzing and chirping. "What's your opinion on tea?" she said, finally breaking the silence between them.

…

Wait, what? "...I-I'm sorry?"

"Tea."

"Tea?"

"Yeah. You know, iced, sweet, green, black... What's your take on it?"

"Uh..." Lily glanced around the room as she considered the question, her eyes stopping at the clock. A quarter after five. She was _so_ going to hear it when she got home.

"I'm sorry, am I boring you?"

"Oh, no, I-"

"Are you in a _hurry_?" Stern. Harsh. Demanding.

"Actually-"

"Because it sure didn't look like it a few minutes ago."

Lily slumped her shoulders in defeat. She had her there.

" _Tea_ ," she repeated with emphasis.

"It's... okay, I guess." Really, she wasn't much of a fan, but any other answer seemed the wrong one.

"When I was a little girl, me mum made it all the time, but I couldn't stand it. I don't know if it was the taste or the smell or what, but I thought it was the worst." The woman pulled at the string hanging over the side of the mug, briefly revealing a teabag. "But after spending a college semester in England, it was like I couldn't live without it anymore." She gave a short laugh. "It's funny. You try so hard to not be like your parents, but one way or another, that's where you end up."

Lily stared at the floor and bit her lip, praying that would _never_ be the case...

Steeping it a few more times, she finally took a drink. By her expression, she didn't seem too pleased with the taste. "I like to make it the old-fashioned way, meself – loose leaf, copper kettle, open flame – but sometimes you gotta make due with the instant stuff."

...but that was a worry for another time because she still had to deal with the present. Where was the lecture about using school property without permission or loitering after hours or _whatever_? Why tea? What did tea have to do with _anything_? If she was in trouble, why dance around the subject? Why not just get it over with already?!

"Yeah." She took another drink, sighing wistfully. "When I was younger, I traveled a lot. Went all over the world: England, West Germany, India, China, Japan- Did you know the Japanese have tea ceremonies?"

Lily nodded. "I... think I've heard something like that..."

"It's pretty rad. _Anyone_ can make a cup of tea, but the Japanese make it into an art. ' _C_ _hadō_ ,' I think it's called. The 'Way of Tea.' I knew a few dudes that were big into it. Most worked their asses off to get it right, but a few just had a natural talent. Either way, _I_ was the lucky one," yet another drink, and she winced, "because even though it took forever, it always resulted in a damn fine cup."

This was maddening. "I'm sorry," Lily's voice cracked, and she still couldn't bring herself to look up, "but what does this have to do with anything?"

The woman tapped a finger on the side of her mug. "I went to make my afternoon cup and came back to find _some kid_ in my classroom playing the piano..."

Lily tensed at the accusation in her voice. "I'm sorry, I know I should've left, and I was going to, but I was curious and the door is _always_ crowded during passing period and I just had to see and then I saw the piano and since it's been a while, I just couldn't help myself-"

"...and it reminded me of those guys." She paused. "Don't think I've ever seen you before. You new here?"

"...yes," Lily said in almost a whisper. And what a great first impression she was making.

"But you don't have my class."

"...no."

"Mm. Alright, so tell me. What I just saw, was that from years of working your ass off, or just natural talent?"

Lily focused on the floor, a few of the dark knots in the stained wood catching her eye. She continued to wring her hands and bit her lip again, harder this time, her big tooth digging into the flesh.

"Hey."

Was that blood?

She snapped her fingers."Look at _me_."

With some trepidation, Lily did.

"Answer the question."

"Uh," Lily swallowed. "Kinda... sorta... both?"

A corner of the woman's mouth hooked upwards into a smile almost immediately. "Rockin' answer, but I can tell you're bein' modest, love." She removed her glasses, hooking them into her collar before leaning forward and extending her hand. "I'm the music teacher here. You can call me Ms. Luna."

Immense relief washed over Lily and, though still cautious, she allowed their hands to meet. "Lily," she said as they shook. "Lily Loud."


End file.
